


Best of both worlds

by melian225



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Community: HPFT, Dragons, Gen, Quidditch, Weasley Family, careers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-05
Updated: 2017-04-05
Packaged: 2018-10-15 06:01:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10551288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melian225/pseuds/melian225
Summary: Charlie Weasley has a decision to make.





	

 

Charlie Weasley looked at the letter in his hand. It had the Wigtown Wanderers logo on the top and, if he was reading it correctly, was offering him ...

No, that couldn’t be right. Not him. He was just a social Quidditch player, he’d never taken it all that seriously. Sure, at school there had been a few diehards who wanted him to take it further, but he’d never really thought much about it.

“What’s that you’ve got?” Bill’s voice cut into his thoughts and he looked up, startled, as his older brother came into the room. “I thought you sent that acceptance off ages ago.”

“I did,” Charlie said. “This is something else ...”

He let the parchment fall to the ground and Bill swiftly ducked and picked it up, scanning it quickly.

“This is yours?”

Charlie nodded vaguely. “Got my name on it,” he pointed out.

“But they’re offering you a spot on their team,” Bill said incredulously. “First choice Seeker for the Wanderers. Starting next season!”

“I know,” Charlie said weakly.

“Well?” Bill asked. “Are you going to take it or what?”

“I’ve already told the dragon colony that I’m taking their job,” Charlie said, still weakly. “I feel bound to them.”

“You’ve been offered a professional Quidditch contract,” Bill said seriously. “If you pulled out of the Romanian gig, I’m sure they’d understand.”

“I dunno,” Charlie replied. “Like I said, I feel bound to them.”

The truth was, he wasn’t sure what he wanted to do. Quidditch was fun, and the letter Bill was now holding was offering more than double what he’d be earning in Romania. However, he wasn’t sure that playing sport all his life was something that he really wanted to do. Working with dragons, though ... he’d been dreaming about that for as long as he could remember.

Bill, for his part, just shrugged. “Your choice, Charlie,” he said genially. “If it was me, I’d be taking the Quidditch one. But then, I’m not you.” He handed the letter back to his brother and then looked sharply at him. “Mum and Dad don’t know about this, do they?”

Charlie shook his head. “And we’re not going to tell them. Mum and Dad _might_ get it if I say no, but the twins and Ron sure as hell won’t. And I don’t want to try to explain it to them.”

Bill nodded. “Sure,” he said. “Like I said, your choice.”

****

“How’s the packing going, Charlie?” Arthur Weasley looked over his glasses at his second son at the breakfast table a week later.

“Good,” Charlie said vaguely. “On track to be ready by Friday, like we arranged.”

“I wish you weren’t going so soon, dear,” Molly said, a hint of sadness in her voice. “You’ve only just finished school, I thought we might have you around here for a little while longer.”

“Dragon breeding season, Mum,” Charlie reminded her. “If I’m not there for the start of the season, I’m going to miss out on everything.”

“I know,” she said, “but still ...”

Charlie stayed silent. He hated to let his mum down but really, if he wasn’t at the dragon sanctuary by the beginning of the following week, he really would be missing out on a huge part of what they did, and it would take a full year to catch up. Not to mention that if he got this experience early it would mean a payrise sooner, as he’d get his qualifications more quickly.

“I still can’t believe you’re going to Romania,” Bill said, his voice full of meaning. Charlie cast a quick warning look at him – he didn’t want anything getting out about the Wanderers offer that he’d – albeit reluctantly – turned down only the previous day. It was something he’d thought long and hard about, including the possibility of playing professional Quidditch for a few years and then heading east to the dragon colony in Romania, but in the end the loyalty he’d felt to the sanctuary manager, who had helped feed his dream in his last years at Hogwarts, had won out.

“It’s where the work is,” he said, keeping his tone light and hoping that Bill wouldn’t take things any further. Fortunately there was a loud crash from upstairs, probably from the twins’ room, that distracted everyone for long enough to take their minds off what Bill could have meant.

“Well, we’ll miss you,” Molly said fondly, kissing him on the top of the head before he could protest. “But I hope you’ll be happy.” And she hurried upstairs to the source of the commotion, wand out in readiness, before Charlie could say a word in reply.

****

A week later, Charlie was standing at the entrance to the Romanian Dragon Sanctuary, rucksack on his back and wand in his hand, waiting to be let in. While the sanctuary was open to the public three days a week, today was not one of those days and, while he knew he was expected, Charlie was a little nervous that he might have been forgotten about and would have to stay there twenty-four hours before he was admitted. Fortunately, he was proven wrong.

“Charlie Weasley?” A gruff-faced man appeared seemingly from nowhere and pulled out his wand.

Charlie nodded. “That’s me,” he confirmed. “You’re Aldous Crockford?”

“Glad you made it,” Crockford said, nodding to his name to confirm his identity. “And a good thing you’re here now, one of our Swedish Short-Snouts is in heat early so we’ve got our work cut out for us.”

Charlie grinned in anticipation. “I can’t wait,” he said, meaning every word of it. Even witnessing the breeding program the sanctuary had in place would teach him more than ten years of Care of Magical Creatures could. Actually taking part in its management, though, would be something else entirely.

“Lodging is over here,” Aldous Crockford was saying, leading Charlie through what seemed a labyrinth of trees and boulders. “This part is cut off from the dragons by a few shielding spells – they can’t get through, which makes it safe for us to live here right among them. Beyond that hedge, though, that’s the border between the human area and the dragons, so don’t go near that without another worker with you, at least for the first few months. We’ve lost a few apprentices who got too curious and wandered in on their own ... not nice, finding body parts a few days later.” He turned to Charlie, his face serious. “Did you know that they don’t like eating our heads? We don’t know why, that’s one thing we’re researching here, but if they take someone, we always find the head discarded somewhere. So be careful; I don’t want to have to send yours back to your parents, okay?”

Charlie shuddered at how his mother might react to receiving that in the post, and nodded his agreement. “I promise,” he said, and meant it. He was a patient person, he knew that eventually he’d have the expertise to head beyond the hedge by himself. Until then, though, he rather liked the idea of keeping his head attached to his body. It was a good deterrent.

“And this is your room,” Crockford said, turning a corner and opening a door to a building so well camouflaged that if Charlie didn’t know it was there, he may never have noticed it. “Room only, you share a bathroom with two others and a kitchen and living area with half a dozen. They’re all good blokes, though, I’m sure you’ll get along fine.” And, after pausing to let Charlie drop off his rucksack and get his bearings, he proceeded to knock on the other doors to introduce the other workers.

****

It wasn’t long before Charlie felt right at home among the dragons and their handlers, or at least the few he had met. As far as a job went, these were people who thought like him, who had his passion for the dangerous winged beasts on the other side of the hedge. These were his kindred spirits.

“You’ve settled right in,” Crockford said approvingly a week later. “Before you know it we’ll have forgotten that you’re new.”

“I haven’t,” Charlie said, and though his voice was light he was deadly serious. “You won’t find me wandering around beyond the hedge in the next few weeks.”

Crockford laughed. “Good to hear,” he said, clapping Charlie on the back. “Thought you had a good head on your shoulders. Glad I’ve been proven right.”

“We don’t see you round the Dragon’s Head much, though,” piped up another voice, this one belonging to Ivor Jigger, who shared Charlie’s kitchen area with him. “You need to pop in there more if the rest of the fellas are going to accept you.” The Dragon’s Head was what they called the communal social area, which doubled as a pub in the evenings, with pool tables, dart boards and Firewhisky available to purchase. It was very much a social hub but Charlie hadn’t made it there more than a couple of times.

Charlie grinned. “Sorry, mate,” he said, still lightly. “Just been getting my bearings first. I’ll be there tonight, though, okay?”

“Good idea,” Ivor said with a smile. “I’ll introduce you to a couple of the blokes you haven’t met yet. Good to be familiar with everyone, you know, just in case.”

Just in case what, he didn’t need to say. Charlie swallowed and smiled again. “Yep, I hear you,” he said. “Tonight it is.”

****

Several hours and more than a couple of Firewhiskys later, Charlie found himself being led around the Dragon’s head and introduced to people he’d seen but not yet spoken to.

“Merv Harper,” Ivor said genially, singling out a shortish man with a large blond moustache. “Colleen Finnigan” was a middle-aged woman with short greying hair and an ample bosom. “Charlie Weasley.”  Charlie did the right thing by shaking hands and trying to commit names and faces to memory, but he was afraid it was a lost cause. Ivor had already moved on to Dorothy Marchbanks, Xavier Macmillan and Eugene Boardman before Charlie had finished the niceties with the last lot.

Finally, it was over and Charlie settled on a barstool with Ivor and their other roommate, Clive Philpott. “Lot of people working here,” Charlie said, trying to sound like he wasn’t feeling overwhelmed by the whole thing. If it wasn’t for dragons he had no idea what he’d talk to these people about – for all he knew they had nothing else in common. Socialising here might be a bit of a challenge.

“We have a good time,” Clive said genially. “You know, the usual sort of thing, quiz nights and book clubs and Quidditch and –”

He didn’t get any further before Charlie cut him off. “Quidditch?”

Ivor nodded. “Didn’t we mention that earlier? We’ve got enough people for four teams here, have a bit of a competition running. Why, do you play?”

Charlie coloured modestly. “Played a bit in school,” he admitted.

“Great!” said Clive. “What position?”

“Seeker,” Charlie said, wondering if there were any suitable openings on any of the teams.

Ivor laughed. “Have we told you lately how much we love you?” he asked, putting a drunken hand on Charlie’s shoulder. “Seeker, you say? Well, have we got a deal for you ...”

Charlie grinned. Sure, he wouldn’t get paid for the Quidditch here, but he had managed to find a way of combining his two loves at one workplace. He made a mental note to write home the next day. Dragons _and_ Quidditch. Even Bill would be happy with that.


End file.
